Blooming Obsession
by Dpreukssiya
Summary: "His growing interest in the matter had been consuming him as of lately and had been consuming his ravenous curiosity. They had grown very close lately and his already blooming obsession with her was turning into something rather dark and un-controllable." Ulfric's molten blooming obsession for the Dovahkiin bursts into a dark entity he isn't sure is within his control any more.


**AN:/ First of two parts. Enjoy.**

It was inconceivable at this point the way this women had wormed her way into the Jarl's business. The dark haired Imperial Shanoa that had first appeared sitting next to him their thighs almost touching on the way to their execution her deep blue eyes had been the first thing that had captivated him so thoroughly. Ulfric had seen many gorgeous women as they entered his palace in Windhelm yet for some reason this women's eyes captivated him. Her ebony hair framed her face neatly and the war paint that adorned her face in a manner that reminded him of tears was striking to him. They were deep, dark and framed her eyes making them pop out stark against the midnight black paint, blended in with her charcoal lashes. She spoke not once. He was intrigued.

The second time he saw her the deep blue orbs that reminded Ulfric so much of the ocean where a deep orange red and they glowed with such an eerie light they struck a chord in him. The leader of the rebellion mused softly over the disappointment that rolled through his chest.

"Your eyes Imperial they've changed." That was the way he has addressed the women he had been hearing so much about from Ralof, who had put in more than a good word testifying this women's skills greater than the people he currently fought side by side with in the Stormcloaks currently. She would be an asset he would constantly remind Ulfric of that night in Helgan insisting upon the notion that they needed more people like her. After they had a short pit stop in Riverwood the mysterious Imperial women had gone off on a quest to Bleak Falls Barrow. The women was mad Ralof recalled thinking, he considered waiting for the women to see if she would return alive out of pure curiosity before he made his voyage to Windhelm.

The next time they had heard of that women Ulfric had learned her name. It was Shanoa and she had been summoned by the Greybeards on account of being the Dragonborn. Instantly the Jarl of Windhelm's interest had been piqued by the women once again. As Ulfric would soon come to understand Shanoa was as elusive as the wind when it came to keeping track of the new Dragonborn. If the healthy serving of compliments and praise for the women Ralof had served up to the Jarl before had not been enough to convince him before this newly acquired piece to the puzzle made her all the more desirable. He wanted the Dovahkiin on his side before that bastard Imperial General Tullius sunk his claws into her and spoon fed her lies as a mother would porridge to a baby. That milk drinker would lie and twist the truth around all in the hopes of her compliance and loyalty. Ulfric would do no such thing. He would expose the truth for what it was and serve it with no sugar, He had the impression that the Dovahkiin was a strong women and would appreciate his appetite for the truth.

"Find her." And the hunt began. A small caravan of disguised Stormcloaks traveled through the various capitals throughout Skyrim stopping in Whiterun whose Jarl informed them they had just missed the Dragonborn who had left the night before. They travelled to Riften searching the ratways and nooks in hopes of finding Shanoa only to discover that she had left with a Dunmer elf Karliah and Brynjolf the leader of the Thieves Guild. They where headed to the Nightingale Hall. They lost track of Shanoa. The women was impossible to track down and they returned to Windhelm with no fruitful rewards or objective filled. Needless to say the Jarl was not a happy man.

The Dovahkiin fell off the Jarl's radar for some time until she surfaced in his city bearing injuries after a bruising visit to markarth, she shouted a dragon from the skies and flew herself until she lost conscience and fell from the sky right outside the city with a thump that sprayed snow about and splattered blood against the rock beneath her stomach. A Dunmer man with orange red hair and lilac eyes happened to hear the great thump from just shy of the other side of the gates and rushed out to see the nightingale armor clad women deeply injured. Grabbing the women to the best of his abilities the Dovahkiin was taken to the Candlehearth hall despite the ravenous comments about his appearance Llaren refused to let them deter him. Using the last of his money that was barely able to sustain his life by a hair's breadth and the last of his few health potions the women was coaxed back into the land of the living.

"I had a dream about Sheogorath… Perhaps I injured my head." The words flew from dark painted lips quicker than intended and shocked Llaren from his sleeping position in the chair next to her bed.

"You're awake! Talos it's a miracle. I feared you would never return to breathing, when I found you, you had sustained several injuries that where indeed life threatening. I begged the merchant in town to sell me a healing spell tome and used the last of my health potions hopping I would get to see your healthy face. Although you still seem pale…" The boy was rambling and Shanoa felt a deep laughter roll through her ribcage and spill out her lips.

"I'm supposed to be pale, If you hadn't noticed before I am a vampire" She opened her eyes and stared deep at the younger Dunmer boy whose gasp was audible the adam's apple of his throat bobbing visibly. He stared at her contemplatively then taking in her appearance as if deep in thought.

"I think it's quite breathtaking if I do say so myself." His pale grey face lit up then with a soft smile. Instantly Shanoa returned the favor. She reveled in the fear etched into people's faces once they saw her eyes. It was especially gratifying when she strolled through Dawnstar and the people scattered. She would throatily laugh and strut along. She appreciated the respect that her eyes gave her when she first encountered Serena, Her first and only vampire friend. She appreciated the un-dying love her Death Hound CuSith regarded her with immediately becoming attached to her and remaining a loyal companion. She appreciated the understanding that the Dunmer boy greeted her with. It was nice to be greeted with acceptance sometimes and not the meek faces of people that feared for their lives in subtle ways else where she traveled. Shanoa was a strong women would cared less about people's image of her and more about the results of her fruitful labor. Despite her hard exterior the acceptance was nice. She felt as if she had made a friend that night.

After the residual ache melted from her body Shanoa ventured outside the small room her Dunmer friend had rented for her (She had paid him 2,000 septims as compensation for his hospitality). She was long past a visit to Windhelm and she knew it, it had always been her intention to join the Stormcloaks ever since helgan, rebuttal for putting her up on the executioner's block for simply crossing the border! And although she should have been furious with the Stormcloaks for causing the whole mess she was a women fueled by anger. Being executed and being in the wrong place at the wrong time where two completely separate ordeals. Her every intention was to eventually help aid Ulfric in his cause. One quest after another sent her into a course farther and farther from her original path. She was busy.

Markarth had been the last straw after the Thalmor had shot her down in the outskirts of the city, she was weak and injured and did the only thing she could think of after she saw a great shadow looming in the sky. She prayed to Talos that it was what she thought it was and her mighty Thu'um summoned the dragon down from the sky and next to her. Her last set of coherent thoughts revolved around Windhelm. Windhelm she had whispered to the dragon collapsing onto its back. Which led her here at the steps of the Palace Of Kings.

"I am the Dragonborn Shanoa and wish to have an audience with the Jarl." Shanoa's smooth and even voice reached the eras of one of the Stormcloak guards who sent immediate word into the palace.

"Send her in." Ulfric slightly as he sat straighter in his thrown eager that the women he had been seeking for so long had finally appeared before him on her own free accord. The heavy doors opened and revealed Shanoa clad in all black with the mace of Molag Bol at her side. She slid the Nightingale hood off of her face a smile pasted onto her lips as she walked straight up to his thrown her knees hitting the cold grey steps beneath him. The Dragonborn oozed confidence and her face lifted to meet his gaze, deep vampire eyes piercing into him.

"My Jarl, I request humbly to join your ranks and fight for Skyrim under your name." Her voice was low so that only he could hear her voice smolder, her eyes illuminating. His response was immediate and skipped not a single beat.

"Talk to Galmar, He handles new recruits… And Dragonborn It's great to have you join our ranks." His deep voice sunk deep into her bones and served as her own personal mantra from that day forward and she swiftly climbed ranks much to Ulfric's approval. This women who had piqued his interest and kept it was well within his reach now.

The insatiable urge to have her in his ranks immediately thereafter grew into an obsession with the Dragonborn. This women who held herself high and carried a certain aura about her that oozed strength and determination. The blood of a warrior coursing through her veins that filled her scent with something simply intoxicating to Ulfric. This women was his aphrodisiac every aspect about her ignited a deep dormant flame within her. And much to the dismay of some of the other Stormcloaks she was not a Nord which was a fact Ulfric found he could very easily overlook. Soon enough she had climbed to one of the highest positions in the Stormcloaks as well as climbing the ranks in his city. Shanoa often assisted the people of Eastmarch and helped them no matter the severity of their quests and small side jobs for her. She kept good friendships and Llaren became her closest friend. She was appointed to Thane and bought Hjern Llaren moving in with her shortly after wards after her first and only argument with Ulfric who begrudgingly allowed this at the threat of her living in Whiterun. CuSith was beyond happy at the notion of a home after being so far away from Castle Volkihar which had been his only home.

In the battle for Whiterun she was useful and remained loyal even though she held the status of Thane and deeply respected Balgruuf who came to deeply resent Shanoa after his status of Jarl was ripped away. Through battles and hardships Shanoa proved herself loyal and completely for his cause, it was a loyalty that struck him. Somehow it was different from the loyalty Galmar showed him. It was something that was so deep he knew that the blade of her betrayal would unravel him. As the battle for Solitude swiftly approached Shanoa and Ulfric found themselves mindlessly swapping stories with Galmar and a few of the soldiers. She told epic tales about all the different places that she had been, the tale about how she became a Nightingale, The tale about her run in with the snow elf brothers, the tale on how she became a vampire.

It was the last story that had captured every aspect of Ulfric's attention. His growing interest in the matter had been consuming him as of lately and had been consuming his ravenous curiosity. They had grown very close lately and his already blooming obsession with her was turning into something rather dark and un-controllable. He was torn from his brooding when Shanoa's voice broke through the voices that where speaking.

"Now now, hush down I won't be able to properly tell my story with all of you talking at once," She smiled softly and Ulfric's thoughts returned to pondering her being a very astute mother for the soldiers. She cared for each one of them as one of her own and it made him smile. She would be a wonderful wife he had mused, toying with the idea was something he had regarded little attention to for fear of the idea consuming him which was common now a days when it came to thoughts about this once mysterious women. She told them that night of a quest that she had embarked on in which she had freed a couple of vampire slaves and upon opening the cage for the male vampire was grabbed and forced against the cold steel bars as he sunk his fangs into her ravenously claiming her throat. They escaped and she passed out from the loss of blood.

She woke up with the insatiable need to bite and carnal lust for blood and had been nearest Dawnstar which upon entering she was immediately greeted by members of the Dawnguard. She fed for the first time that night. Viciously and carnivorously she ripped into their throats and stained the snow a deep red.

"You know, I used to think that your blue eyes where the most intriguing set of eyes I had seen, determined and eager, Ambitious and on the chopping block: defeated. But I find myself intrigued by your eyes as they are now. They are molten with passion and bright with your intentions." Ulfric had spoken up as he stood from the large dinning table and made his way to his thrown his steps stiff from sitting too long. "It's passionate people like you that make me proud to be the leader of this rebellion." He continued and sat in his thrown which was very becoming of his Shanoa mused.

"I want the world to see that with this Skyrim will be a better place. That we will be able to function properly once again. It's my dream and you all are helping me make it a possibility." There was a certain air that surrounded Ulfric in that very moment that made Shanoa's eyes widen slightly. Made her heart pound wildly in her chest like a trapped bird in a cage. Made her breath cease for one small moment. Her smooth face flushed the color of a soft budding rose and she was silently thankful that the hall was dimly lit at the moment. The candle lit room making her skin appear tan and only slightly colored. She thanked Talos for the soft lighting in the room.

After the fall of solitude and the defeat and death of General Tullius Ulfric had finally accomplished half of the dream he had set out to do and well on the way to being the high king of Skyrim now had put a huge burden on his shoulders. One in which he was more than willing to accept. With Galmar and Shanoa at his side Ulfric was more than confident that things would smoothly fall into place now. He had the military might as he had just proven to keep the small residual companies of Imperials at bay. The Jarl of Windhelm had everything where he wanted it and ultimately led a successful cause. Things would certainly be better now. As the dust settled and his attention for things had vastly decreased seeing as the Jarl had an increase in his work load now, he spent less and less time with Shanoa.

When had he just utterly snapped? He began to question that himself. After everything that life had thrown his way and all of the problems he had conquered he found himself irreversibly thrust into Shanoa's love life. He had almost completely lost it when Shanoa had returned after a rather prolonged visit to Riften and upon returning came bearing the bond of matrimony that had situated itself on her fingers. The vile and dastardly piece of rubbish metal that made something bubble up within the Jarl. He wanted nothing more than to cut the head off of the lover that now accompanied her everywhere and followed in her wake like a shadow.

Perhaps he should have assumed that someday Shanoa was going to marry and find someone. But the very thought burned his soul and Ulfric wanted to truly shout someone to death. Because how dare they. This bleak obsession that started out as mere interest had grown into something that Ulfric didn't think he was prepared to face just yet. But Talos be damned that women was his! When his thoughts had narrowed this down exactly was beyond him. This obsession was consuming him and he wanted to lock her in his prison and keep her all to himself. The rage he felt that bubbled through his veins was almost to the point of no return.

Ulfric hadn't bothered learning Shanoa's husband's name because frankly he didn't care in the slightest. There was a tension that had erupted between Ulfric and Shanoa. She began to visit him less and less each day. Even as he finally claimed the rightfully earned place as High King of Skyrim she did not visit. He was aching for her presence. He was longing for her presence, Her scent, Her voice… It was a tangible ache that settled in the pool of his gut and twisted up his insides, aroused his body and stimulated his dreams.

It was the night that Ulfric woke up in cold sweats and a damp small clothes that he realized this had gone on for too long. The fiery dream that held images of her dusted skin as she writhed in every which way while he thrusted his thick thick girth into her softly rolling his hips lazily while he clawed at her sides and stroked her fleshy mounds in his calloused hands possessively. He claimed her with his essence and she willingly held onto him her strong form bending and conforming to his every action as she moved in complete harmony with him. She voice let out a small laugh as she rode with him and climbed so high she peaked and quaked underneath him.

Gods Ulfric felt his length twitch back to life under his apprehensive hand swiped up the globs of essence that clung to the head of his penis uncomfortably. Lust sizzled in his gut wrenched through his body as against his will he rode out another orgasm as spurt and spurt of cum shot into his hand. He groaned deeply and moved his hand down his rigid length milking every bit of pleasurable wave out of his body. The High King's breath was harsh and he leaned back against the furs that covered his bed letting his body relax.

After about roughly two months and an entire new season budding Shanoa clambered into The Palace of Kings. CuSith at her heels as he barked for attention. Ulfric sat at the head of the dining table and turned to the dog his eyes immediately landing on Shanoa who was barely conscience. He ran to her. She hugged him deeply sobs wracking her body. She hugged him tightly and pressed her body flush against his her cheeks where tear stained with fresh drops bleeding down her face. Ulfric embraced her and held her there. It was that night that Ulfric knew he was in love with Shanoa.

She had left her husband she told him. She leaned up and pressed her lips softly to Ulfric's whose response was immediate. He pushed her against the wall and gingerly kissed her back. And on the wall he made love to Shanoa right in the center hall. He was slow and yet rough at the same time and manhandled the completely pliant women in his hands. Her sex was soft against his and moist as he sunk into her repetitively.

"Shanoa…" He groaned out in her ear over and over softly and rough the gravel in his voice creating a delicious heat in the Dovahkiin's stomach. She had had a soft Thu'um on her lips and he swallowed it with one of her own. I love you. And in that exact moment that was all they really needed to hear as they climbed higher and higher together.


End file.
